


Call Me Maybe

by checkmate



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkmate/pseuds/checkmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony usually ignored the stupid flashing messages, but this one felt like it had been placed there especially for him. He had never thought about phone sex before, probably because it was such a dodgy cliché, but he clicked anyway, unable to resist.</p>
<p>Or that one where Tony is a professor who happens to call a phone sex line and Bruce is his student, who happens to work at a phone sex line. Put the pieces together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【翻譯】Call Me Maybe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6533980) by [sandykill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandykill/pseuds/sandykill)



> HAHAHAH HELLO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES ALSO YES I DID CALL THIS FIC CALL ME MAYBE FEEL FREE TO PUNCH ME IN THE FACE
> 
> I would like to say I know basically nothing about phone sex lines. All my information comes from other fanfiction and that one episode of Castle where the murder victim worked at a phone sex line. Hence do not expect any accuracy about what phone sex lines are actually like. 
> 
> That being said, willingly suspend all disbelief and enjoy this. It should clock in at five chapters or so, and you can expect roughly one a week, I imagine.

“Tell me what it is, Barton. Am I going grey? Do I have wrinkles? I never used to have this issue!” Tony slumped further into his seat, taking a sip of the lukewarm and genuinely disgusting Americano he’d scrounged from the student cafeteria. They couldn’t even muster up a damn mug, so he was stuck with a shitty paper cup that was burning his hand.

“Tony, there’s an age limit to being a playboy, you know.” Clint said bluntly, trying not to laugh at his friend’s despaired expression. “You can’t keep up a lifestyle of picking up girls and dropping them whenever you feel like it. You’re nearly forty. No twenty year old blonde is going to want to bounce on your dick for much longer.”

Tony glared at him. He had to wonder why he was friends with Barton. The guy was crude and frequently downright inappropriate, but at the same time, Tony knew he was right. Over the past few months, his sex life had completely dried up; he hadn’t gotten laid in weeks, and even his regular casual fling options had stopped returning his calls.

“So basically I’m a creep?” He asked, expecting Clint to disagree wholeheartedly. He didn’t. “Come on Clint, I’m getting desperate! I haven’t been this long without sex in years and my right hand just isn’t cutting it anymore. And my left hand just isn’t the same.”

Barton slammed his cup down on the table; the thin paper crumpled instantly, spilling a watery brown excuse for coffee across the plastic laminated tables. “What exactly is it that you want me to do? Is this your way of asking for a threesome?”

“No!” Tony replied hastily, but his mind wandered to the idea of being in bed between Barton and his kick ass red head wife, and a small grin appeared on his face. “Why, are you offering?”

His friend scoffed, the reaction Tony was predicting. “Natasha has made it clear that she would not touch you with a ten foot pole if your cock was 11 inches long and made from solid gold.” Clint reminded him, flicking his now empty cup at Tony. It hit him in the chest, meaning that now he had a fuckin coffee stained shirt to deal with as well. “So if it’s not that, what?” He continued, ignoring Tony’s protests. “You want me to set you up on a date? Like I’d inflict you on any of my friends, God. If you’re that desperate, get a prostitute.”

Tony snorted, tearing open a packet of slightly soggy cookies, before realising that he might just be being serious. “You’re joking, right?” He said cautiously, and Barton shrugged, mopping up the rest of the split mess on the table with a paper napkin. “No, but, really. You were kidding, weren’t you? Tony Stark does not pay for sex, Barton.”

“Then stop complaining.” He said sharply, picking up his bag and standing up. “You have a lecture to deliver in… oh, approximately five minutes, Stark. Move your ass.”

Tony swore under his breath, and grimaced as he swallowed the last grim mouthful of his cookie. He hated his Tuesday morning class with all his guts, and the question of how _any_ of them managed to get into NYU was anyone’s guess, with the exception of just one student. Bruce Banner never looked like he was paying attention, hell, he slept through most of Tony’s lectures, but he turned in such astoundingly good papers that no-one ever bothered to make him listen.

But Bruce didn’t show up that morning, which was unusual in itself. Tony couldn’t ever recall him missing a lecture the previous year, but he’d missed three in the past month. Even more unusual was the fact that he burst in half way through, mumbling an apology and sheepishly taking a seat. No-one turned up half way through Tony’s lectures, usually because if a student overslept, they didn’t tend to bother getting up and racing to a class, but also because he got a kick out of ‘gently teasing’ (or in other people’s words, humiliating) his students, and walking in late was a prime opportunity for him.

He resisted, though, with Bruce, and let the kid settle down in the second row in peace, continuing seamlessly on with his presentation. Bruce was asleep within five minutes. He looked shattered, and not in the usual ‘heavy student night out’ kind of way. He looked exhausted and worn down, like he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. Tony knew the look well.

“Mr. Banner?” He called out as the students filed out at the end of the session. “Can I have a word please?” The hall fell silent, then everybody ‘ooh’-ed as if Bruce was in trouble. Tony flipped them off, questioning once more the level of intelligence as well as maturity of his students.

“I’m sorry, sir, I overslept. It won’t happen again.” Bruce said hurriedly, clearly wishing more than anything to be away from him. Even in that couple of seconds, he checked his watch like he had somewhere more important to be. Tony pursed his lips, considering asking the kid what his deal was, but he decided against it.

“Make sure it doesn’t. You’re doing great, Banner, no-one would deny that, but you could do even better if you tuned in a little bit more.” God, when exactly did he turn into _that_ lecturer? Bruce nodded again, and Tony let him go, watching as he scurried off as fast as he could.

***

His whole day had been basically shit, and he couldn’t face another night out, hopelessly getting rejected at every turn, so after microwaving some weird mac and cheese and eating it out the pot, he caved, and opened his laptop. While his porn collection was vast and diverse, nothing could hold his attention for more than a minute or so, every video the same dull monotony and predictability. His eyes drifted and he started opening emails, reading documents for work and, eventually, just staring at the adverts as a trio of girls faked an orgasm with ridiculous obviousness.

The adverts for a local phone sex line? Tony usually ignored the stupid, flashing messages, but this one felt like it had been placed there especially for him. He had never thought about phone sex before, probably because it was such a dodgy cliché, but he clicked anyway, unable to resist once his curiosity had been piqued. Well, it was more expensive than porn, Tony thought. “But still cheaper than a prostitute.” He remarked, thinking about his conversation with Barton earlier that day. He was horny and well on the way to wasted and after half an hour of porn he was barely even hard, let alone close to getting anything out of it. “Fuck it.”

He grabbed his phone and dialled the number, his heart pounding in his chest. “Good evening, welcome to The Pleasure Line, how can I help you today?” A cool voice came down the line, an actual human voice that sounded entirely professional. Tony baulked. He hadn’t expected to get through instantly- he thought he’d have a minute of ‘Your call is on hold’ in order to chicken out.

“Oh, uh, I… Um…”

The woman on the other end laughed lightly. “First time caller, huh? Don’t worry, we can guide you through. First we’ll just need to take your payment details…” Tony dug his card from his wallet and wondered why in God’s name he was doing this. They could be stealing all his worldly gains for all he knew. Disconcertingly, that didn’t make him put the phone down. “And a few questions.” The woman said eventually, running through a personality profile as long as his arm, ending with, “And finally, would you prefer a male or a female phone attendant, Sir?”

Tony paused for a moment. “Female, please.”

“Give me one moment, Sir.” Tony waited patiently for about twenty seconds, each of those trying to urge himself to hang up the phone and forget this ever happened. “Unfortunately all of our female attendants are engaged with clients, Sir. Would you prefer to wait, or would you like to be directed to a male attendant?”

“If I wait, are you going to charge me?” Tony guessed that they probably would. Preying off the heterosexuals, God. The voice confirmed his guess. “Then put me through to a guy. Whatever.”

“Of course, Sir. One moment, please.”

The line buzzed static for a few seconds, and a different voice replaced the previous one.

“Hello, Sir, what can I interest you with this evening?” The guy had obviously been warned he was a newbie; Tony couldn’t imagine this preamble went down well with the regulars. The guy on the other end of the phone sounded young, but confident, like he’d been doing this a while.

“Uh…” Tony said, awkwardly. This was a terrible idea, he’d decided. Absolutely awful. “Um… I honestly don’t have a clue.” He confessed, blushing furiously, and glad that at least with phone sex, the other person can’t see him.

“Do you just want to do a normal spiel, to learn the ropes?” The man said gently. “You can get more creative next time.”

Tony squeaked a response, and a chuckle came from the other end. “You can call me Robbie, if you want.”

“Is that your real name?” Tony said dubiously, then immediately regretted it. This was embarrassing enough as it was, and drawing attention to the fact that this guy was… well, a sex worker, didn’t make it any easier.

He took it in his stride though, laughing softly as if it was a question he got daily. “Of course not. Now, sweetheart… Why don’t you strip for me?” The voice changed in an instant, from light and fun and playful to seductive and commanding, and Tony… _reacted_. He began to claw at his buttons, trying to unfasten them with numb fingers. Finally succeeding, he threw it on the floor and quickly dropped his pants and boxers.

“O-Okay…” He murmured into the phone, back clutching it awkwardly in his hand as he sat in his bedroom, naked, hard and very very alone. “What do I…”

“Shhhh…” Robbie told him. “Let me do the talking, baby.” Tony nodded, despite the fact that Robbie couldn’t see him, and stayed silent. “Lie down on your back and take your dick in your hand.” Tony did as he was told, all questions and doubts erased from his mind as he became fixated by the voice in his ear. “Now move your hand, but really slowly. Touch your balls a little, get yourself nice and worked up, that’s it.”

Tony hadn’t felt so good in days, even if he was a little embarrassed that he was following the orders of someone he paid to instruct him down the phone. He bit his lip to stop hiself from giving away how fucking turned on he was, but Robbie chastised him.

“Don’t swallow back those lovely little noises, sweetheart. I want to hear you whine and whimper and moan for me.”

Tony began to pump faster, letting every lewd sound he made travel down the phone to the person on the other end as he was getting more and more desperate. But Robbie was good at his job, a professional. Robbie knew what to listen for. “Slow down there, soldier.” He reprimanded cheerfully. “You don’t want to finish up too soon, do you?”

Tony couldn’t help but think that yes, yes he kind of did want it to finish because God knows how much this was going to cost him, but the voice almost had a hypnotic element to it; he slowed his fist down, and, by jamming his phone between his ear and his shoulder, began to tease and trace patterns and shapes down his chest, brushing his nipples, stroking his legs and chest in every way he knew he loved.

He let out a long, loud moan, and the person on the line echoed it back, quieter but with a matched enthusiasm. It was only then that it occurred to Tony that Robbie might be getting something more than money out of his job. “Please, can I…” Tony stopped, embarrassed, as his voice shook. Robbie prompted him to finish. “Can I go faster? I need to come.” He had no idea why he was asking for permission. He wondered briefly if he’d have sped up anyway had Robbie said no.

“Of course, baby. Come for me.” Tony let out a strangled cry as he spurted white hot come into his fist, some of it landing on his stomach. He was breathing deeply, almost panting with the exertion.

“Th-Thank you.” He gasped, and the voice, Robbie, acknowledged him briefly and wished him a good night before the line clicked shut, and he was connected back to the first voice.

“Good time?” She asked, with a tone that clearly implied she already knew the answer. He barely grunted back a response, his head still reeling and his heart pounding. She recounted a few numbers at him and he made affirmative noises at the appropriate places. “Well, that’s that. I hope to hear from you again soon, Sir. And if you quote that number I just gave you, we can connect you straight to your existing account. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your evening.”

“Wait!” He said, a moment before she put the phone down, against all of his better instincts. “Say I wanted to speak to the same attendant… If I so happened to call again. How would I go about doing that?”

“We have clients that request regular sessions with a particular attendant, it’s not unusual. When you connect, just give the name of the person you wish to speak to – so Robbie, in this case - and they will let you know if or when he or she will be free. Is that all, Sir?”

“Yes, I think so.” Tony replied. “Thanks for all your help.” He added awkwardly on the end. The line clicked dead and Tony dropped his phone beside him. He was sticky and self-conscious and a little bit ashamed, but he felt better than he had in weeks.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh, I never stick to regular posting schedules anyway. I can only promise roughly once a week! :)

Tony’s dreaded Tuesday morning lecture had rolled around again, and Banner’s seat was still empty. It wasn’t like him; at least, it wasn’t like him the previous year, where he had shown up early to every class he took, made full and ridiculously detailed notes and hung on Tony’s every word. Something was going on there, he could feel it, but all his best instincts as an educator told him not to get involved.

It was during his lunch break, when he was sat in the faculty lounge dozing off amidst a mountain of horrible essays, that there was a knock on the door, and Bruce entered, looking sheepish and holding a small wad of paper. “There’s no need to apologise, Bruce. Most of your peers can hardly manage to attend once a month, and _they_ don’t come and find me to hand in their assignments.” He said, smiling slightly and taking the paper from him. “Take a seat, I’ll mark it now. Coffee?”

“Oh, um… No, thank you.” Bruce perched gingerly on the edge of the seat opposite him as he began to read through his wor, looking supremely uncomfortable. A few of Tony’s colleagues scowled at him for violating the strict no students policy, but none of them dared actually say anything. Tony was only half paying attention to the pages in front of him; the rest of his head was taking advantage of seeing Bruce at close proximity to notice he looked grey and drawn, as if he hadn’t slept in a month.

“An A, as usual, Banner.” He said eventually, dropping it on his desk. “Remarkable, really. I hope you’re not investing too much time in your studies.”

Bruce looked at him, confused. “I don’t…” He said, but trailed off awkwardly.

“You look exhausted, Bruce. Like seriously about to pass out exhausted. When was the last time you actually got a decent night’s sleep?” His student didn’t respond, and Tony hummed knowingly. He recalled his own students days well. “And, despite your fantastic grades so far this year, I highly doubt you’re staying up all night reading course books and making notes, are you?”

Bruce’s silence, and the blush spreading across his cheeks, said it all.

“You’re putting me in a tough spot, Banner. I can’t really fault you, or tell you not to stay up all night screwing your girlfriend or whatever-” Bruce made a small squeaking noise at that comment, which Tony ignored, revelling in his making the boy even more uncomfortable than he already was– “because your grades are flawless, so it’s really not my problem, but… As someone who played it heavy through college, look after yourself, yeah?”

Bruce looked surprised, and Tony had no idea why he was imparting his worldly wisdom on him. Maybe because he was the most intelligent kid of his age Tony had ever met? But Bruce nodded, looking truly mortified.

“It’s… It’s not a girlfriend. I don’t… Whatever.” He admitted. “My dad refused to give me any money for college this year, so I have to work nights. But I don’t want it to affect my work, so I just… Don’t get much time to sleep.” His admission surprised Tony a bit. It wasn’t exactly the textbook excuse for fatigue. “Thanks, anyway, Sir.” Bruce said as he stood up.

“No problem, Banner. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I can’t promise I will actually be able to help, but you can always _ask_.” Bruce laughed quietly, and let himself out of the room, leaving Tony uncharacteristically worried about him.

***

Tony was sure he’d managed to talk himself out of it. Every opportunity he’d had this week, every time he’d been tempted, he’d stopped himself before he dialled the number. Granted, he had typed it in a few times, thumb hovering over the little green icon, but he hadn’t actually _dialled_ it, which he took as a small victory. He had tried to forget about it by occupying himself with other things, but once he’d watched a bit of TV, ordered a takeout from the Chinese down the road and finished grading the last of his class’s papers, he ended up staring at his phone screen, where a string of tantalising numbers were illuminated back at him. It was nearly two in the morning when he finally thought “Fuck it.”, and bit the fucking bullet.

“Hi there, welcome to The Pleasure Line. Is this your first call?” It was a different woman on the phone this time, Tony noted, and he scrambled around for the number he’d been given last week. He read it out, trying to make it sound like this was his hundredth time, not his second, but the woman didn’t make a comment about it.

“Could I… Is Robbie here? There? Uh… Available?” Tony cursed silently for making himself sound so much like an idiot. He was kind of ashamed that not only was he ringing up the line again, he was asking for the same person – the same _guy_ – that he had last week. Any trace of his claim to heterosexuality was going out the window, but Robbie just made him feel so _good._

“Hello again.” Tony jumped as the familiar voice drawled its greeting down the line.  “You know, I didn’t catch your name last week.”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat or two as he scrambled around the recesses of his brain for a suitable fake name. “Uh… Edward.” He mumbled eventually. “Edward, yeah. Or Eddie. People call me Eddie.”

“No, they don’t.” Robbie laughed, and Tony couldn’t help but smile at how easily his lie had been seen through. “I’m going to guess at a middle name.”

“Is Robbie your middle name?” Tony asked, his heart thumping, though he didn’t know why. “Or Robert, I guess?”

“Robert is actually my first name. Just no-one calls me that.” He told him, before his voice dipped into an entirely different tone. “But I don’t think you’re here for casual conversation.” Tony gulped, and Robbie must have heard his reaction, as a deep chuckle followed. “So, ‘Eddie’… What do you have an appetite for?”

Tony hesitated. “I… I don’t…” The other end of the line is silent, waiting, and Tony, after a brief internal argument, manages to spit the words out. “I want you to fuck me. Please.”

It shouldn’t be so hard, really. It’s not like he’s exactly inexperienced with sex, even, dare he admit it, sex with men, through a combination of threesomes and/or alcohol. The environment, however, was something entirely new, and he couldn’t shake off the awkwardness that someone else, somewhere in the city, was listening to him as he jerked off to their voice. Whilst paying, none the less.

“Oh yeah? You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, sweetheart. Maybe you could lie down on your back and I could fuck you slowly, filling you up completely every time, making you moan and beg for more…” He purred seductively, and Tony’s hand, lingering around his dick, began to stroke in time with Robbie’s smooth rhythmic tone. “Or maybe ass in the air? I could fuck you into your mattress, your hands grabbing on to the sheets, clinging on for dear life as I pound into you mercilessly until you _scream_.” Tony’s breath hitched, and his hand sped up to match Robbie’s new pace. The guy was _good_ , Tony had to admit, and left him desperate for more. His cock was getting hard  already, and he’d been touching himself for all of thirty seconds. “I guess we could forego the bed altogether…” Tony wasn’t exactly sure how it was even possible, but Robbie’s voice dropped even lower. “I could bend you over the couch, or a table, spread your ass and tease you with my fingers, getting you worked up and desperate to come before I even started to fuck you.”

Tony let out the moan he’d been biting back, and jerked his dick in rough movements. Robbie’s mouth was _criminal._ “Fuck…” He muttered, trying to recollect his thoughts before he came all over his stomach.

“So what’ll it be?” The voice teased.

“On my back.” Tony choked out, his throat dry and his head pounding from the rush of the adrenaline coursing through his body. He hadn’t felt so alive all week. “P-Please…”

“Got you begging already, huh?” Robbie’s laugh was light and playful, clearly knowing just the effect that he was having on his client. “You sound very pretty when you beg.” Tony whimpered at that, already embarrassingly, achingly hard.

“I… You…”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Now tell me, do you have any toys?” Tony let out a choked sound of surprise, and Robbie took that to mean an emphatic no. “That’s fine, we can just work with your fingers.” Tony swallowed nervously. He wasn’t sure why he suggested this, he’d only done it to himself a couple of times, and yeah, he liked it but it wasn’t what he usually _did_. And paired with being talked through it by an incredibly confident and, Tony admitted, sexy male voice was enough to put him on edge.

“Okay Eddie, I want you to touch yourself.” Tony’s hand moved automatically back to his dick, flushed dark and beading pre-come, but it was like Robbie knew exactly what he was thinking. “Not your dick, honey, but everywhere else. You like playing with your nipples, hmm?” Tony spluttered an affirmation as his fingers already were tugging on the little buds of flesh. “I want you to touch yourself all over until you’re so hard for me, keep touching until you feel like you can’t take it anymore.” Tony put the phone on speaker and laid it on his pillow by his head, and proceeded to follow Robbie’s instructions, scratching up his thighs and pinching at his nipples, urged on by low encouragements in his ear. He heard the unmistakeable sound of a zipper being undone and Robbie letting out a small gasp of pleasure.

“I’m… Can I… Please, fuck me.” He choked out, still resisting the urge to just take hold of his dick and jerk himself into blissful orgasm. Ridiculously, the sound of Robbie getting himself off too made Tony feel like he had to last this out, make it good for the other man.

Robbie laughed that unbelievably sexy laugh, slightly more brathless than Tony had gotten used to hearing. “I do like a man who begs.” He purred, and Tony’s heart skipped a beat or two. “We’ll start with one finger then, sweetie.” And he scrambled for the lube in his bedside cabinet, squirting a generous amount onto his fingers, then slowly pressing his index finger into his ass. He hissed in pain; he hadn’t done this in a long time, and Robbie could tell. “That’s it, nice and slow. Now, when you feel like you’re ready, I want you to start to pull that finger out a little and push it back in. Can you do that for me?”

Tony whimpered at the drag as he fucked his finger slowly, the single digit torturously teasing. “M-More, please!”

Robbie chuckled. “Since you asked so nicely. But I’m going to keep fucking you slowly, filling you up. And no touching your cock, sweetie, not until I tell you. That’s it, add another finger.” Tony swore loudly at the burn, but kept pressing in frustratingly slowly. “Fuck yourself on my fingers.” Robbie instructed, dragging another whimper from Tony. “Now twist them towards you, I want you to-”

His words were drowned out by Tony’s loud guttural moan as his fingers brushed his prostate, and a dribble of pre-come pooled on his stomach. “Please, I- I need to touch my dick.”

“One more finger, and then you can touch yourself.”

Tony hurriedly squirted some more lube onto his fingers and began fucking three fingers into his ass, the tightness making it a difficult task. “F-Fuck, Robbie, o-oh _God-_ ”

“That’s it, sweetie. Stroke yourself as I fuck you, that’s it. You take me so well, don’t you?” Tony let out a strangled cry as he came over his stomach, three fingers buried in his ass and Robbie’s low, soft voice in his ear.

God, he could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblrino](http://isaac-laehey.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait - I've had a crazy busy week! :)

Tony choked around the dildo he was deep throating, and Robbie commanded “Come for me, baby.” down the phone, and he did. He came so hard he saw spots on the inside of his eyelids, so hard he was panting helplessly for breath as the dildo fell onto the pillow beneath his head. “Good boy.” Robbie cooed down the phone. “I’ll see you around, Eddie.”

“N-No, wait-” He gasped, his voice rough from the silicon cock he’d been sucking for the last however long, but the phone had already disconnected.

Tony sighed, rolling out of bed and starting to strip the sheets. His sessions with Robbie were only getting better and better, but Tony was starting to want _more_. It took all of his effort to not just ring up every night; jerking off alone just didn’t do it for him any more. He’d even taken a humiliating trip to the next town over to buy a dildo, refusing to go into his local adult store in case someone recognised him. He’d blushingly confessed this to Robbie, who gleefully incorporated it into Tony’s next session.

They’d had four now, but Tony wouldn’t let himself call more than once a week, firstly because he really didn’t want to become dependent on a voice in his ear to have a decent orgasm, but secondly, and more importantly, he didn’t want to spend his entire inheritance paying for sex. He had fallen into a routine of calling late on a Monday night, late enough that he didn’t have time to hate himself too much before he fell asleep.

Of course, it usually meant he was exhausted for his least favourite class of the week, but since hardly any of the students showed up anyway, he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Bruce, however, did manage to make it to that week’s lecture, assignment completed and everything, though he looked even more drawn and exhausted than usual. Tony grimaced at the amount of work he had to grade, figuring he’d get started on it during his lunch break, and dismissed the class early, because he really needed a damn coffee and no-one was paying attention and God damn it, he just didn’t give a shit.

He curled up in his favourite chair in the staff lounge and pulled the stack of papers towards him, but he barely finished three when the entire room burst into applause. Tony looked up to see Pepper Potts looking a little embarrassed and thanking people as they congratulated her, though Tony had no idea what for.

“Happy proposed!” Pepper told him, beaming widely and waving her hand in his face, decorated with a fucking huge rock.

Tony tried his best to return the smile, but it looked forced and he knew it. It was hard to be enthusiastic about his ex-girlfriend’s engagement when he was totally alone other than for a weekly anonymous voice driving him to orgasm. “That’s great.” He said, attempting to sound sincere, but her smile faltered. “No, seriously, I- I’m really pleased for you, I’m just tired and I’ve got loads of papers to get through and-”

“It’s fine, I get it.” She said, smiling. “We should get a drink sometime to catch up, though. I feel like I haven’t spoken to you in ages.”

“Sure, that sounds… good.” He agreed weakly, grabbing the next paper from the pile. She took it as a pointed hint to leave, and Tony thanked her silently. The assignment he was marking was refreshingly readable compared to the last couple, managing a solid B. It was only when Tony caught sight of the name at the top that he groaned.

Bruce Banner.

*

“You wanted to see me?” Bruce said, sticking his head around Tony’s office door.

“Yeah, I did.” Tony said, the words coming out a little more aggressive than he intended, but that morning had been a train wreck and it was hard not to take it out on someone. “I marked your paper.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh’ is about right.” He said, throwing it across the desk. He saw Bruce’s face fall as he saw the little red B. “I know it’s not any of my business, but trust me Bruce, I do actually have your best interests at heart, and whatever it is that’s making you so fucking tired constantly is affecting your grades, and it’s only going to get worse.”

Bruce looked simultaneously angry and upset. “I told you, I have to work-”

“There’s no point working all the way through college to the point where you actually miss out on college. If you need help with money, Bruce, there’s no shame in that. The finance office should be able to get you a loan-”

“I’m managing!” Bruce snapped, then flushed in embarrassment. “I… I’m sorry. I just… I’ve just had to work a few later nights than I usually do. I’ll do better next time, I swear.”

*

Fuck the once a week policy. He’d had a terrible day and he needed to blow off some steam. Like, stat. He’d pressed the dial button without even thinking twice.

“Hey, Eddie.” The confident voice said smoothly as soon as he’d been connected. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“Yeah, well. I had a shitty day.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to fuck you until you can’t think straight?”

Tony took a deep breath. He already had his new dildo and the bottle of lube on his bedside cabinet. “F-Fuck me.”

“Mhmm. Well, one thing at a time, sweetie.” He said, his voice dropping into that low, lilting tone that was positively dripping _sex_. “First, I want you to tell me what you’re wearing.”

Normally Tony would have laughed at such a phone sex cliché, but the words delivered in Robbie’s smooth voice were undeniably hot. “Um… Jeans and a button down?”

Robbie laughed softly. “My kind of man. Underwear?” He prompted.

“Y-Yeah, uh… briefs?”

“Okay, sweetie, now what I want you to do is tell me your favourite sexual fantasy. Don’t skip out on any details, and no touching yourself until I say.”

Tony flushed. He’d never previously thought of himself as submissive, but having Robbie direct him in his masturbation had been an undeniable turn on. Robbie, in fact, had increasingly been featuring in many of Tony’s other orgasms, an anonymous figure relentlessly teasing and driving Tony to the edge. “Uh… I’d be tied down, spread eagle and naked on the bed.” He started nervously. “And you’d have a… a d-dildo, teasing me with it until I begged for you to fuck me with it. A-And then you would keep fucking me until I was almost coming, and then stop, over and over until I could barely think straight.” He was kind of surprised at himself really; he had no idea where most of that had come from, but his cock was definitely interested, pushing harshly against the tight confines of his jeans.

“You fantasise about me? I’m flattered.” Robbie laughed. “You know, that sounds like a lot of fun, Eddie. Maybe I’d bring some new toys with me. Maybe you’d have a butt plug pressed nicely against your prostate. I could control its vibrations, turn you into a total moaning, writhing mess at my will.” Tony’s breath hitched. God, this guy was good. “And you know what, I don’t even think I’d touch you. No. If you wanted to come, you’d have to come untouched. Completely under my control. You like the sound of that, sweetie?”

Tony honest to God moaned. “P-Please…” He murmured, desperately wanting to jack off to that unbelievably hot mental image. “Can I take my jeans off? I need to-”

He could almost hear Robbie smirk down the phone. “You know, I like that image of you coming untouched. I want to see if I can make you come in your pants like some horny teenager, Eddie. How does that sound?”

It sounded stupidly hot, if Tony was going to be honest, so he said so.

“That’s what I like to hear. Have you got that lovely dildo there for me?” He asked, and Tony spluttered ‘Yes’ almost instantly. He was so hard, he really wasn’t expecting this to last long. “Good boy. What I want you to do is kiss it slowly, all the way from base to the tip. Get it nice and wet, sweetie, that’s it. You have to show me how much you _love_ my cock before I’ll let you suck it.” Tony had spit dribbling down his chin by the time that Robbie was satisfied, soaking into the collar of his shirt, and God he felt so _good._

When Robbie finally gave him permission to swallow as much of the silicon cock as he could, Tony immediately thrust it into his mouth and barely avoided gagging. “You’re so eager, aren’t you?” He teased as Tony moaned around the dildo. “It’s okay, sweetie, it makes me happy how desperate you are to please me...” Tony fucked the cock into his mouth deeper. Robbie straddling his chest, forcing Tony to swallow his cock, Robbie murmuring words of encouragement into his ear, Robbie coming in hot white pulses down his throat…

He let out a strangled cry, muffled by the dildo, as he came hard in his pants without laying even a finger on it. “Good boy.” Robbie praised him, and Tony flushed, throwing the spit slicked dildo on to the bed beside him.

“So Eddie…” He drawled as Tony got his breath back. “Did that make up for your shitty day?”

Tony groaned, feeling all sticky and gross and all together much better than he did a few hours ago. “Yeah, I think I probably over reacted. My ex-girlfriend got engaged and then one of my best students dropped a grade and I was tired and I just really needed someone to fuck it out of me. So, uh… thanks?”

He was expecting a chuckle from Robbie, a smooth ‘You’re welcome’ or something of the sort, but he didn’t get it. “Your… Your student? Are you a teacher?”

“A lecturer.” Tony said. “In the physics department at NYU.”

The noise on the other end of the line sounded like Robbie had dropped his phone. “O-Oh.” He said hurriedly, trying to recover himself. “That’s… Look Eddie, I should go. I don’t want to waste your money on conversation.” And before Tony could protest, the line clicked closed.

*

“Coulson, I need a favour.” He was at the university administration building, a place that he tended to avoid because it was dull as fuck, but this was an emergency. “I need to look at a student’s permanent file.”

Phil narrowed his eyes. Technically they were supposed to get permission from someone to view student’s details, but Tony, who had never cared about a student enough to do so, had no idea who that was. Hence, a shortcut. “Which student?” He asked eventually.

“Bruce Banner. He’s in his third year, in the physics department.” Coulson nodded and started typing away at his computer. Tony knew his suspicion was incredibly unlikely, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. It all just coincided. Bruce’s tiredness, working late, the way Robbie freaked out when Tony said he worked at NYU… “Here.”

He turned the computer screen towards Tony, and his eyes fell on that first line. ‘Full Name: Robert Bruce Banner’. “Fuck.”

“Was that it?” Coulson said, sounding bored, which Tony supposed was only understandable given that he worked managing people’s files all day, but he just nodded, his head reeling.

“Yeah, that’s… that’s great. Thanks.”

As soon as he left the building, he found a bench by the sidewalk and collapsed into it. God, this was all so screwed up. Obviously he’d have to stop calling, or get a new operator, but should he tell Bruce? Or should he just avoid him? But he couldn’t even do that because he was his fucking lecturer and he was so smart and – Tony swore. His stupid late night calls were what was keeping Bruce up later.

And it was Bruce – his student, barely an adult – that had made him come in his pants, got him to fuck and tease and suck and God knows what else, and Tony had _paid._

This really was fifty shades of fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays to everyone who celebrates a holiday this time of year and if you do not then I just wish you a happy rest of the month <3
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://isaac-laehey.tumblr.com) if you so wish <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! <3

“Mr Stark, someone wants to speak to you.”

Tony swore. “I’m not here!” He yelled back across the lounge, ignoring the glares of his surrounding colleagues. There was a pause, before the fellow lecturer guy who he vaguely recognised  turned back around.

“Apparently it’s important and it can’t wait.”

Tony tutted as he dragged himself to his feet. “What part of I’m not here are you struggling to understand? God.” He got to the door, expecting to see some fretting first year with a late assignment or something, but instead he got Bruce Banner, leaning casually against the wall. “Ah.” He said, turning beet red and attempting to convince himself that Bruce hadn’t worked it out. He’d managed to avoid him for almost a week, but he knew deep down that it couldn’t last forever. “About the assignment that you missed last week? My office then, Mr Banner.”

Bruce nodded, a slight smirk on his face, and followed a few steps behind as they made their way down the corridor. Tony reached the door first and held it open awkwardly. “So.” He said quickly, perching against the edge of the desk. Bruce mirrored the action, which made Tony irrationally want to stand up straight again.

“So.” Bruce repeated. He dug around in his bag for a second and fished out a crumpled quiz, handing it over. Tony took it and glanced through the first page. It seemed like an improvement over the last one, at any rate, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Bruce had more time since he’d stopped calling.

“Was there anything else you needed from me?” Tony asked, his heart pounding so loud he was almost sure Bruce could hear it. If his student didn’t bring it up, _he_ wasn’t going to; he detested awkward situations and this was about as textbook awkward as you could get. “Because I’m very busy, and –”

“I’ve noticed.” Bruce said, a small smile on his face. “You haven’t phoned in a while, _Eddie_.”

That Bruce was able to keep such an amazing poker face was nothing short of a miracle. Tony was blushing profusely, his heart racing in his chest as what he suspected to be true was confirmed. It _was_ Bruce; Bruce who fucked him, made him feel so damn good, got him to spill his fantasies down the phone line. Bruce who was a genius without even trying, who looked ever more drawn as the weeks went on and money got tight.

“Y-Yeah, well.” He said, cursing himself as he stammered. “I’m not… Don’t worry I… I won’t be calling any more. If I’d known…” He started, then trailed off. If he’d known… what? Would he have stopped? He’d like to believe so.

“It’s a shame.” Bruce said after a brief silence. There was no trace of cockiness or arrogance left in his voice, just real disappointment. “You were always my favourite.”

Tony froze and turned back to look at Bruce against all better judgement. “What? Why?”

Bruce leered, an expression that Tony had been picturing on an anonymous face for weeks now, and took a step closer. “Most people just like the sound of people saying naughty things in their ear, Tony. It’s like porn, but more personal and expensive. They get off to the fantasy.” He came closer again, his voice dropping in pitch. “Not you though. You weren’t just jerking off while I told you how I’d fuck you. You did _every last thing_ I told you to do.” Tony swallowed around the lump in his throat. Bruce was so close that he could feel the warmth of his breath on his skin, so suggestive that it was all he could do to not shut him up with a ferociously hot kiss.

Jesus. He was having serious problems separating his… _feelings_ for Robbie with the student in front of him.

“How do you know?” He said eventually, taking a step back from Bruce to increase the distance, not trusting himself being that close. “How do you know I wasn’t just jerking off?”

Bruce chuckled. “Oh, I can tell, sweetie.” His use of the pet name – the pet name, Tony knew, he probably used for every single one of his clients – made his heart skip a beat and his dick twitch in his pants. This was so not fair. “You bought a fucking dildo for me, _Eddie._ Don’t even try to deny it. You hang on my every word. I could hear you last week, desperate to come, but you didn’t. And no-one is that good of an actor.”

Tony flushed. “What do you want? Do you want me to re-grade that assignment?”

Bruce looked at him in shock, and scrabbled backwards as if he’d just realised that he was at college and Tony was his professor and this wasn’t appropriate and – “Oh my god. What? No!” He said looking genuinely horrified. “No! I fucked that work up, it’s my problem, I don’t – ”

Okay, Tony was hella confused.

“You thought I was going to blackmail you or something?” Bruce asked, looking just as confused as Tony felt, and then he realised something. “Oh my God I’ve been sounding like I’m going to blackmail you.”

“So… You’re not going to blackmail me?” Tony confirmed, feeling a little more hopeful. He might be humiliated as hell and probably unlikely to ever make eye contact with Bruce Banner again but at least the entire faculty wasn’t going to find out.

“No!” He said hastily, taking another step back until he was practically sat on Tony’s desk. “I… It doesn’t matter. I’m just going to… go.”

“Bruce, wait-” Tony shouted after him – he wasn’t sure what he actually wanted to say to him, but he really didn’t want to leave it like this. Bruce didn’t even pause though, bolting from the room as quickly as he could. “Great.”

*

“Here’s the thing, right.”

Tony regretted even answering the phone. It was an unrecognised number, and he didn’t know the voice, and he was pretty sure the guy was drunk, and just _no_. “You’ve got the wrong number.” He growled, unable to control his temper, which he thought was excusable given the fact it was gone two in the morning.

“N-no, Tony! No no no no. Not wrong number. Tony?”

Tony paused, his thumb about to end the call, but he put the phone back up to his ear. “Who is this? Where did you get this number?”

“You gave it to me.” The voice slurred. “You said you’d p-personally get us expelled if we ever prank called.”

A student then, Tony thought, rubbing his eyes as he sat up in bed, phone squished between his ear and his shoulder. He now deeply regretted giving his physics class his personal contact number. And then he realised. “… Bruce?”

“It’s weird hearing you call me that down the phone. Call me Robbie, sweetie.” Ooooh no. No no no no no. This was not happening right now. He tried to protest, but Bruce, Robbie, just shushed over him. “The thing is, I like doing this. With you.” Tony froze, and reminded himself of all the pathetic shit _he’d_ said while drunk. Bruce wasn’t… He didn’t… He couldn’t hold Bruce to anything said when he was like this. “If you don’t want it, hang up, and I won’t bother you again.” But even drunk, he was stupidly convincing. He should hang up. He should hang up and go to sleep and possibly consider getting a new job. And a new set of morals.

He didn’t hang up. “Robbie…” He said, almost at a whisper. This was it. He was going to hell.

“Hey, Eddie.” He drawled, the drunkenness being pushed to the back in favour of a sense of confidence and purpose. “Long time, no see, sweetie.” He was suddenly not surprised he didn’t recognise the voice. Bruce sounded so different like this; he was older, rougher, lower, and infinitely filthier. Tony swallowed nervously.

“Y-Yeah, I’ve been… busy.”

Robbie chuckled, a teasing laugh that forced a shiver through Tony’s body. “Too busy even to make time for me?” It was like all the embarrassment Bruce had the previous day had vanished, overtaken by his old charm and confidence; Tony could almost forget _who_ he was speaking to, if it wasn’t for the fact that he seemed to have absorbed all of Bruce’s embarrassment himself. Bruce chuckled, and Tony sincerely wished he too was drunk right now. “It’s okay, I forgive you. So what are you wanting today, sweetie?”

“I…” Tony’s throat was dry, his mind unable to string together two coherent thoughts, his heart hammering in his chest. “I… I just want… Need you.” He choked out eventually, hoping to hell that Bruce was going to be way too hung over to actually remember this in the morning. He didn’t know what he wanted, he never did, only that he wanted Robbie, _Bruce,_ in his ear.

It took Bruce a while to respond, but then he laughed softly and Tony’s pulse accelerated, nervous and excited and trying so hard not to think too much. “Strip for me, sweetie.” Tony dropped his phone in his hurry to comply, and he swore, knowing that it would be just his luck that the screen had shattered or something. “Everything okay there?” Robbie teased, as Tony scrabbled to put the thankfully intact phone back to his ear.

“Yeah, I just…” He started, but decided against finishing the sentence. “So, uh…”

“Relax, baby.” Bruce said smoothly. “You’re overthinking this.” Overthinking being fucked over the phone by a student? Was that possible? “This is only going to be awkward or weird if you make it awkward or weird, Eddie.”

“Tony.” He corrected firmly, and Bruce paused. “This stupid pretending is making it feel awkward and weird. Tony. Bruce.”

If Bruce was surprised, he didn’t stop to show it. “Okay, Tony…” He continued in that same low voice. “What to do with you today, hmm?” He swallowed nervously, trying to not focus on how his name sounded rolling from that dangerous tongue. His cock was already standing to attention without him laying a finger on it, anticipating what was to come. “That dildo of yours… Did you ever fuck yourself with it?” Bruce asked with such a casual tone that Tony damn near dropped his phone again.

“No.” He said, stupidly terrified and turn on at the same time. “I never… At some point I want to, but-”

“Calm down, Tony.” Bruce soothed expertly, and Tony did, only realising how much he’d tensed when Bruce talked him into a state of relaxation again. “We won’t do that tonight. Out of curiosity, have you ever been fucked before?”

“N-No.” He stammered, blushing horribly. “I’ve… I’ve had sex with guys before, but I’ve never bottomed.” At this stage, that shouldn’t have been embarrassing but it kind of was. He didn’t know if he wanted Bruce to fuck him or not any more, so he just kept talking aimlessly, filling the silence. “I mean, I’ve had plenty of fingers up there, mine and other people’s, but never...”

Bruce laughed lightly. “Well, I know you’ve had plenty of fingers, Tony.”

“Shut up.” He quipped back – not his best response, but whatever. Bruce stopped him from thinking in snarky comebacks, and it was kind of terrifying.

“Would kind of make this pointless, wouldn’t it?” Tony laughed despite himself. He liked that Bruce didn’t skirt around what this was. It might not have been a lot of things – moral, a good idea – but at least it was kind of honest. “Enough small talk, sweetie.” He god damn _purred,_ and Tony let out a quiet whimper. This was not fair. “Are you touching yourself?”

“N-No.”

“Good boy.” He purred again, and Tony had to bite his lip to stop himself moaning at the words rolling from Bruce’s tongue. “Do you want to?”

Bruce laughed as Tony practically shouted yes down the phone. “Okay, sweetie. You can touch as much as you want, but you’re not coming until I say so.”

Tony’s hand flew to his dick as soon as he heard the words, giving himself several firm strokes before he realised that shit, at this rate, it wasn’t going to take him long. He forced himself to slow down, to not get too close, and somehow, that was worse than not touching at all. Every stroke was a tease, a reminder of how deep he was in this stupid relationship, how much he needed this. What had started as a quick fix for blue balls had turned into… into… Tony didn’t even know what it was any more. “Bruce…” He whimpered, sounding completely wrecked even to his own ears.

“C’mon Tony, you’re being so g-good.” Bruce murmured down the phone, a sharp intake of breath catching the last word, and it suddenly occurred to Tony that Bruce was getting something out of this too. “So hard for me, sweetie, so good. T-Tell me how much you want it.”

“God Bruce, please.” Tony moaned, so close, so fucking close. “I need – I want, I want to come, p-please.” Bruce didn’t respond, but he could hear the fast shallow breathing, a choked off moan and an undeniable “Tony!” as he came. Tears were pricking in his eyes in the effort to stave off his orgasm, listening to Bruce get off listening to him. “B-Bruce, please.” He whispered, one last broken whisper, and Bruce gave a breathy laugh.

“You can come, sweetie.”

And Tony did. Come spurted from his closed fist, covering his fingers and lower stomach with sticky strings of white. Bruce stayed on the line as he panted through his orgasm, waited for him to get his breath back and come down from a ridiculously good high. “You… That…” He attempted, but gave up and slumped back into his pillows, heart still racing.

“You like that?” Bruce asked, and Tony could practically hear the smirk. “There’s plenty more where that came from, sweetie.”

Tony couldn’t bring himself to answer, still reeling at the whole messed up situation. “You… You don’t sound so drunk anymore.” He managed eventually, his tone a little accusatory.

Bruce hesitated for a second, then laughed. “Trust me, I’ve had a couple, but I _may_ have exaggerated a little.” Tony should have been pissed off, but he wasn’t. Bruce wanted this, liked it just as much as he did, apparently, and Tony wasn’t going to condemn him for it, Dutch courage and all. “Anyway sweetie, I should go. Early class tomorrow.”

And with a short laugh and no more words, Bruce clicked the line shut.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading. Probably only one chapter of this left but I have started working on something new. Don't hold your breath, because I can be super slow and I have exams in January and stuff, but I do have a new Science Boyfs project.
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://isaac-laehey.tumblr.com)! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO BLOODY LONG. On the upside, it is a little longer than the previous chapters. Sorry?

“Tell me what you want.” Bruce said conversationally, like he totally didn’t have Tony rock hard and desperate and whining on the other end of the phone.

Tony cursed under his breath, clenching his fists in the sheets to stop himself from touching. “I want to come.” He said through gritted teeth, but Bruce just laughed.

“That’s kind of a given, sweetie.” He said, and nothing more. Tony groaned. He knew what Bruce wanted, he knew what Bruce wanted to hear. “Beg for it.” He instructed, each word delivered with a perfect balance of softness and force, danger and tease.

“P-Please, Bruce...” He croaked, flushing a little even though Bruce couldn’t see how fucking wanton he probably looked right now. “Please, I need to-”

“But what do I get from it?” He asked, seriously like he was considering it, considering what he was getting from this when Tony know that he was sat there with a phone in one hand and hard cock in the other. “How about we trade, hmm? You tell me what you want right now, more than anything else, and if you impress me, you can come. Sound like a good idea?”

Tony, a slave to his own dumb ideas, knew he had no choice. “Y-Yeah.” He muttered, then faltered. Bruce waited, clicking his tongue as he lost patience, and Tony took a deep breath. “I want you to fuck me with that dildo.”

“Oh really?” Bruce said, attempting to keep his voice level, but Tony heard the small sharp intake of breath. “You want me to fuck you, hmm? I’m sure that could be arranged… You’d sound so filthy, fucking yourself for me.”

Tony’s mouth felt dry, and _fuck_ he should just let Bruce think that’s what he meant. This whole thing – Bruce, Robbie, Tony, Eddie – God, it was so much more confusing than he ever imagined, and it was screwed up, and… “I don’t mean like that.” He blurted, cursing his own lack of self restraint.

“Then what do you mean?” Bruce said, the act dropped, the confusion obvious in his voice. He sounded nervous, almost as nervous as Tony felt, but he wasn’t going to back out on this now. It wasn’t as if this stupid arrangement could actually get any _more_ awkward.

“I mean I want you. Here. Screwing a dildo into my ass.”

There was a clatter, and it sounded like it was Bruce for a change that had dropped the phone. “You… _What?_ ” He said in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? Are you drunk?” He added suspiciously. “Or high, maybe?”

Tony paused for a second, trying to gauge Bruce’s reaction. He could let it go, pretend he was fucked off his head and they’ll never mention it again. Or… “Nope.” He said obnoxiously, popping the p because he was just a massive jerk. “I’m neither drugged up nor joking. You asked what I wanted so I told you.”  Bruce didn’t say anything, and if this was what it felt to shock people speechless, Tony could see the appeal. “It doesn’t have to turn into anything, sweetie.” He said, playing on the pet name and immediately feeling a little guilty. “Just… take some time to think it over. You don’t have to, but-”

“I know I don’t have to, Tony.” Bruce interrupted, but Tony couldn’t judge whether he was interested  or not. “I’ll… I’ll think about it. Look, Tony, I’ve… got to go. Sorry.” The line clicked dead before Tony had a chance to react, and he was left hard and horny and kind of wishing he hadn’t mentioned it. But Bruce hadn’t shut him down, he hadn’t said no, and that was enough have him coming over his fist in seconds.

*

“Banner.” He said firmly as his class trooped out the following morning, sounding more confident than he felt. Oh god, this was such a terrible idea. But Bruce had already stopped, turned back from the door and walked back to the desk, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Sir?” He prompted, lounging on Tony’s desk which was cluttered with bits of paper and stationery and folders. He felt weirdly self-conscious of the mess, despite the fact that Bruce had been in his classes a thousand times before, seen the mess he kept it in. The concept that he should have put in more effort was comical.

“I, uh, was wondering… Did you take some time to think over my... proposition?” He asked, attempting to keep his tone neutral and not like he was being entirely humiliated. He failed, swallowed nervously, waiting as Bruce seemed to take an unreasonable amount of time to spit his words out. He fiddled with the strap on his bag as he waited, unable to keep himself still.

“I thought about it, yeah.” Bruce said eventually, making direct eye contact with Tony. It was kind of uncomfortable but Tony didn’t dare drop it. “But I have some conditions.”

Tony’s heart skipped several beats – that totally meant yes, didn’t it? “Conditions?” He asked carefully. “You mean… Well, I can, uh… compensate you for your help. Financially.”

Bruce ignored him, then totally shattered the formalities. “One. No fucking _financial_ _compensation_. I’m a phone sex worker, okay, not a prostitute. If there’s no phone, it’s not my job. Two, this happens at your place.” Tony hesitated, realising for the first time, however ridiculous it might sound, that Bruce fucking him was going to involve Bruce being in his apartment. If Bruce noticed the pause, he didn’t mention it. “Three, don’t make this weird. Do you understand?”

Tony can’t stop a grin spreading over his face. “So you’ll do it?”

“ _Do you understand?”_

Tony rolled his eyes. “No pay, my place, not weird. I got it.” As if this was actually going to happen. God, he was such a terrible person and he didn’t even care.

*

Bruce knocked on his door at 7pm on the dot, apparently more punctual for sex than he was for his physics lectures. Tony opened it cautiously, half expecting to see a leather clad Bruce draped on the door frame with a whip in one hand, or something equally as traumatising (and hot). But he was just stood there, confident but not arrogant, looking frankly edible – but publicly decent – in a charcoal grey button down and sinfully tight skinny jeans. “Hi.” He said easily, eyes flicking over Tony’s tight t-shirt in an appreciative leer. Tony fucking blushed. Fuck. “You gonna let me in, sweetie?”

Tony stumbled back awkwardly, desperately trying not to trip over his own feet as he made space for Bruce in the hallway. He’d completely cleaned the place from top to bottom, and told himself over and over that it was only because the place needed a good tidy anyway. Nothing to do with the fact that Bruce was taking off his fucking shoes and leaving them neatly next to his. Tony was weirdly self-conscious about the fact that he had nothing on his feet. Of all the things to be self-conscious about, he didn't know why it was that, but it made him feel… vulnerable. Lecturers were not meant to be in a position where their students could see their bare feet. God. It wasn’t as though he’d had any experience with these kinds of things, but he was pretty sure he shouldn’t be feeling as fucking nervous as this.

“So… Do you want a drink or something? I’ve got, uh-” Bruce cut off Tony’s stupid babble by pulling him in sharply by the fabric of his shirt and kissing him. And Jesus Christ, Bruce was a good kisser. “What was that?” He spluttered indignantly, but only half angry. He couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed him like that - he couldn't remember the last time someone had _kissed_ him, period.

“That was to stop you embarrassing yourself. Jesus, suddenly I can actually believe you haven't been getting any.”

 “Why the fuck would I pay for phone sex if I was getting any in real life?”

Bruce shrugged, that appraising look back in his eye. “You _are_ very hot, for an old guy.” He said, folding his jacket over the back of one of Tony's bar stools. “Now where are we doing this? Bedroom? Couch?  Over the kitchen table?”

His mouth felt like the fucking Sahara desert. “I don't know.” He said honestly, his imagination barely keeping in check as his eyes flicked to said kitchen table. “My planning never got that far. It wasn’t as if I actually thought you’d show up.”

“Yeah, well, neither did I.” 

The words weren't laced with the confidence Tony was used to with Robbie and it was kind of disconcerting, a confirmation of Bruce underneath it, and he had no idea how to respond to that. “Um... bedroom?” He suggested, jerking his head towards the next room, and Bruce seemed to click back into his other persona, a smile on his face. Tony led the way, hesitating at the light switch as he debated leaving it off, before clicking them on anyway. The bed sheets were fresh and neatly made, with a stack of clean pillows even though he knew Bruce wasn't going to stay. The dildo, the fucking dildo, sat happily on his bedside table, lube next to it, taunting. Tony wished he'd left them in the drawer.

“Aren't you prepared?” Bruce teased. Definitely should have left them in the drawer. “Calm down, sweetie. Why don't you start by taking your clothes off for me, then lie down on the bed?” It was that same tone, that same familiar tone that had basically conditioned a near instant boner whenever he heard it. He scrambled to obey, tugging his shirt off his head and managing to not get his arms tangled in his haste, then dropping his pants and stepping out of them. He was about the pull his briefs down too, trying not to overthink it, when Bruce stopped him. “No, actually. Keep them on. For now.”

He could feel Bruce’s eyes on him as he settled against the pillows, but he tried not to be self conscious. He was Tony fucking Stark, he had nothing to be self conscious about. “Good boy.” Bruce praised absently, picking the dildo up and turning it over in his hands. “Don't do things by halves, do you?” He grinned, admiring its length. “Open your mouth, sweetie.” Tony squeaked as Bruce pressed the silicon between his lips, his dick undeniably starting to twitch.

“You like that?” He murmured, running a hand through Tony's hair. It was getting long, and Bruce didn't bother resisting the urge to tug it sharply. The pain drew a moan from around the dildo, and Bruce laughed. “Sure sounds like you like that, sweetie.” Tony nodded, barely fucking believing that this was actually happening, so Bruce pushed the dick further into his mouth. He was almost starting to regret not going commando as his own dick got more and more visibly hard.

Bruce noticed the tent and smirked, palming it roughly just once because he was a total asshole. “You want to take them off?” He teased, touching the button lightly. Tony nodded, his jaw just starting to ache from being held open. Bruce obliged, giving Tony's mouth a final fuck before pulling the dildo from his lips and setting it aside. Tony flexed his jaw instinctively.

“You can take them off now.” Bruce grinned, and Tony couldn't help but be embarrassed about how quickly he popped a boner. He threw them to floor and oh God this was so much worse. Bruce was looking with unadulterated curiosity. Tony hadn’t felt this vulnerable in _years._

“Are you going to stay dressed?” He asked to break the silence.

“Did you want me to undress?” Bruce sounded surprised, uncomfortable somehow, like fucking someone was no problem but taking off his shirt was fucking unheard of.

“Am I making this weird?”

Bruce flipped him off, before undoing the buttons and shrugging the material from his shoulders, and well shit, Bruce was surprisingly toned. Tony swallowed, eyes flicking over defined muscle with no subtlety whatsoever. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Tony retorted with a smirk. Bruce ignored him, dropping his shirt to the floor, but he swore he saw an embarrassed little smile. “But seriously, _fuck,_ man.”

“Tony… That’s not-”

“Appropriate?” Tony gave a long slow stroke of his dick with the words, keeping full eye contact. None of this was appropriate; they might as well enjoy it while it lasted. He was very satisfied with the involuntary blush rising in Bruce’s cheeks.

“Did I say you could touch?” He admonished, and Tony shook his head. “I’m not going to have to restrain you, am I?” Tony fucking moaned at the words, so fucking turned on and Bruce had barely laid a finger on him. “You’d look so pretty, all tied up for me.” Bruce murmured softly, like he was talking to himself more than to Tony, but every word was carefully weighed, every word turning to gold on his tongue.

“Bruce, I swear to God -”

He pushed Tony’s legs apart, settled himself between his thighs. Tired of teasing, Bruce grabbed the lube and squirted some on to his fingers. Tony let his eyes flutter closed as the slick fingers danced across his ass, trying to clear his mind of all thoughts and focus on the sensation. He’d already stretched himself quite thoroughly, figuring that was the least he could do, but Bruce sounded weirdly disappointed. “Couldn’t wait, huh?” He said, his words definitely laced with disapproval as he slipped his index finger past the tight muscle. Tony gasped; even though he was prepared, the intrusion came as a shock. Bruce grinned, wasting no time in adding a second finger, twisting them inside Tony with practised precision.

This was by no means new to Tony – what happens in college stays in college – but _God_ , it had been a long time since someone else had done this for him. He relished in its unpredictability, the loss of the control that made masturbation so unsatisfying for him. His yelp of surprise as Bruce pulled his fingers away entirely turned into a deep moan as he fucked them back in, expertly brushing against Tony’s prostate as he did. This is what he’d been missing all these months, the novelty of someone else’s hands, someone else’s body pressed against his.

Bruce added a third finger when _he_ thought Tony was ready, and Tony took it gratefully, soaking up every second of this hasty going through the motions. He too wished that he hadn’t bothered stretching himself, because Bruce clearly got off on it, if what Tony could see of his dick was anything to go by, and God he was so good at it.

Bruce picked the dildo up once more, giving it a generous covering of lube, and Tony felt himself tense up. “You ready?” He asked gently, a hand soothing over his hip bones. Tony took a deep breath and nodded.

“Fuck!” He yelped as Bruce gently pushed the silicon in barely an inch deep. “That’s… That feels so fucking weird.”

Bruce burst out laughing. “You’re _such_ a virgin.” Tony wanted to protest, but in this case, Bruce was totally right, so he settled for groaning and flipping him off. As soon as Tony adjusted to the feeling, wider andc older and much more solid than fingers, Bruce pushed it in a little further, each inch further escalating the burn that he only craved more of. It fucking hurt, no two ways about it, but Tony couldn’t remember the last time hurt felt that good. As he moaned again, Bruce chuckled quietly. “And you wonder why you’re my favourite, Tony… You’re so fucking loud, so responsive… A guy likes to know he’s being appreciated after all.”

A breathy moan escaped his lips as Bruce pulled the dildo back, pulling out almost its entire length until just the head remained. Tony’s asshole twitched as it stretched a little wider, wanting to pull it in or push it out and being held torturously in between. “Please…” He managed, not knowing what he was asking for, not knowing whether he was desperate for more or less. Bruce apparently took it as the latter, pulling it out with a slight pop and an arrogant smirk.

“Did you want me to stop?” He asked innocently, giving Tony a look a faux concern that barely disguised his amusement.

“N-No!” He spluttered. “No, I want… I want you to fuck me.”

A look flickered across Bruce’s face that Tony could only describe as concerningly evil. With a smirk, he asked, “What was that, sweetie?” and Tony cursed under his breath.

“I want you to fuck me.” He repeated, firmer that time, looking Bruce straight in the eye. Bruce pressed the dildo against his hole again, not enough to let it slip in, but more than enough for Tony to feel it, the heavy pressure, teasing.

“I’m not sure you do, sweetie.” He laughed again, the infuriating little asshole, and Tony knew him well enough to know what he was playing at. “Make me believe you.”

Tony swallowed any pride he had left and took a calming breath. “Bruce, please.” He said, keeping eye contact with Bruce. Even Tony could see that the younger man was no way near as unaffected by this as he was pretending to be, see the lust in his eyes and the beyond noticeable boner in his ridiculously tight jeans. “Please, I want – I need you to fuck me, Bruce. I n-need you to fuck me until I’m so hard I can barely think. I need you to screw me with that stupid fucking dildo until I come without you laying a hand on me. I…  I need…”

Bruce smirked. “God, that’s so much more satisfying when I can see in your eyes how fucking desperate you are for this.” And he pushed the dildo firmly, sliding in all the way to where his fingers clutched the base, aided by liberal amounts of lube. Tony groaned deeply, the stretch and sensation of being stuffed full, of _Bruce_ seeing him like this, exposed like this, making him more turned on than he could ever remember. “Did you even know you got off on this when you first rang me?” He asked smoothly, a lilt in his voice and laughter in his tone, and Tony shook his head, too breathless to manage a proper ‘no’.

Bruce flicked his wrist and slammed the dildo into Tony’s prostate, drawing a string of creative curse words mixed with filthy moans from his mouth. “M-More.” He gasped, fingers clutching at the bedsheets, trying to keep in control. Bruce obliged, setting a punishing rhythm of fucking in and out, Tony rocking as best he could to fuck the dildo deeper, harder. Bruce still liked to tease, pulling out as far as he could to slam back in again, or else to sporadically slow the thrusts, leaving Tony’s hips fucking into nothing in utter frustration. He wanted to just jerk himself to completion, so embarrassed and helplessly turned on and vulnerable and _turned on_ , but Bruce had warned him against touching, and he’d fallen into the habit at some point of doing exactly what Bruce wanted him to do. Outside of school, that is.

“You want to come?” Bruce asked like he was enquiring about the fucking weather, and Tony moaned in affirmation, eyes fluttering closed as the dildo brushed against his prostate in a horribly teasing move. “Okay.” He fucked the silicon in, out, going faster, harder, deeper each time, until Tony was screaming and begging and being generally incoherent. Bruce leant his head to Tony’s ear. “Come, sweetie.” And Tony’s eyes flicked open as one last twist of Bruce’s wrist caused him to come hard, spurting white all over his lower stomach, his hands not leaving the bed sheets.

Bruce grinned in triumph as Tony panted, trying to process what had just happened, then pressed his lips to Tony’s in a passionate kiss. “Good boy. I’ll let myself out, sweetie.” He had already picked up his shirt and started buttoning it before Tony had a chance to react.

“W-Wait!” He yelped, scrambling into a sitting position. “You’re going?” Bruce rolled his eyes and silently finished buttoning his shirt. “You don’t… want to get some food or something? Or at least deal with… that?” He asked, indicating the bulge in his pants.

“Rule three, Tony - don’t make it weird. This was about you, and above all, about the sex. So now I’m going home.”

“I can drive you back.” He said recklessly. “Public transport isn’t good this time of night and-”

“Tony, it’s barely eight. Shut the fuck up. I’m fine.” Shit, yeah. It felt a lot later to Tony than it really was. Bruce smirked, one hand on the door handle. “I’ll see you in class next week, _sir._ ” He let himself out without another word, leaving Tony naked, sticky and more confused than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said this was going to be the last chapter but I lied I'm sorry. There's going to be an epilogue of sorts because I can't end here but I wanted this chapter to be all the pr0nz because I feel we've been building up to it. Hopefully the last chapter won't be such a long wait!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://isaac-laehey.tumblr.com) :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you the last chapter would be around quickly. Is it a coincidence that I finished both this fic and Unexpected Anomalies on the train back from London? Probably. 
> 
> In other news, I made up NYU email addresses based on the Contact Us page on the website so that's probably wrong but who cares.

“Welcome to The Pleasure Line. How can we help you toda-”

Tony spat his client number over the woman on the phone, annoyed as hell. “I want Bruce, please.”

There was an awkward pause, fingernails on keys clacking in the background, and a sound of surprise. “I’m sorry, sir, but that particular operator has added you to his blocked callers. I recommend you do not attempt to connect with him again.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Tony said, and hung up without another word. It has been over a week since Bruce fucked him, and he hasn’t seen him since. He skipped every single one of Tony’s lectures in the last week, refused to answer his phone calls or text messages, and hasn’t even handed in his assignments which Bruce _always_ made an effort to do. And now he’d been blocked on the fucking sex line. Tony felt like shit. He initiated this, he suggested last Friday, and now Bruce won’t so much as text him.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. He pulled his laptop towards him, logged on to the faculty email, and began to write. It may have taken an hour, and six drafts, before he finished, and even then he wasn’t entirely happy with it, but he gave up and sent it before he over thought it.

_From:_ _anthony.stark@nyu.edu_ _  
To: bruce.banner@nyu.edu_

_PLEASE DO NOT DELETE WITHOUT READING._

_Bruce, I don’t care if you’re angry at me (even though I don’t know what I’ve done).  If you don’t hand in the work you owe me by the end of the week, I’ll be forced to fail you on it. And I really don’t want to do that. Can we just make it to the end of the semester? Then you can transfer out of my class and we’ll just forget this whole thing ever happened._

_Tony_

*

He didn’t get a response, but then, he didn’t expect to, which was why he was very surprised when a tired, scruffy looking Bruce walked unceremoniously into his office the following day. “Bruce-”

“This semester, okay?  This semester, then I’m transferring to Hammer’s class.”

“Ew. Gross.” Tony said, unable to contain himself, but he stopped smirking when Bruce glared at him. “Okay, fine. What’s this about, Bruce? When I found out you were… were Robbie, I was going to stop, remember? I was going to stop but _you_ called me, you started this thing we have – had going on.”

Bruce was quiet for a second or two, looking at the floor, before lifting his eyes and staring right at Tony. “I didn’t start what happened last week.”

Tony threw his hands into the air in exasperation. “No, you didn’t start last week. But I gave you plenty of time to think about whether you wanted to go through with it, and you said three conditions, remember?” Bruce flushed but didn’t say anything. “I wasn’t allowed to pay you, which in hindsight I never should have suggested anyway. It had to happen at my place, which it did. What was the third condition, Bruce?” He was fucking furious and he had no idea why, furious at how Bruce kept staring at the floor, refusing to meet his eye.

“Don’t make it weird.”

“Exactly.” Tony agreed, getting into his stride now. It was always dangerous to let him get to this point because once he’d got a rant going, he didn’t like stopping for anything. “Don’t make it weird. And you know who made it weird, Banner, huh? You, by not so fucking much as looking at me since.” Bruce at least had the decency to look embarrassed, and didn’t try to deny it, because that would have pissed Tony off even more. “So spit it out.”

There was a long silence, and Tony was just about to go off on one again, when Bruce just blurted: “I can’t stop thinking about you.” That was not what he was expecting to hear. Shit. What? “I know it was just blowing off steam for you or whatever, and I get that, but… Shit, Tony. You’re something else.”

Tony had no idea what to say to that. He wished he could gracefully shut this whole thing down like he had with many a student crush in his teaching career, but this was… different. He didn’t want to end this, and he couldn’t honestly say that he felt any differently about Bruce. It wasn’t romantic – at all, in any way – but God, he was a good (sort of) fuck, and Tony hadn’t been as enamoured with a sex partner in as long as he could remember. He swallowed nervously. “I could say the same about you. But I’m your… You’re still my student, Bruce.”

“And there’s your answer as to why I’ve been ignoring you. Jesus, for someone who is meant to be smart, you’re really fucking slow sometimes.”

“And for someone who is meant to be smart, you’re really fucking failing my class right now.” He retorted, unable to resist. Bruce wordlessly reached into his bag and dug out a few crumpled pieces of paper, handed them to Tony with a smug look on his face. “Right.” He muttered weakly, already knowing it was probably brilliant and inspired and flawless.

“You wouldn't have failed me anyway.” Bruce stated without a hint of doubt.

“I wouldn't?” Tony asked, trying really hard to sound like he disagreed. He didn't.

Bruce shook his head. “It would be a waste of all this... Potential.” He emphasised the last word, smirking,  

“You were willing to bank on that?”

“Of course not. I handed it in, didn't I?” Bruce stepped closer, and Tony wished he wasn't standing against his desk because shit, he was getting too close. “But tell me Tony... Was I wrong?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Are you ever wrong?”

Bruce laughed. “Not often.” And they were kissing, and Tony had no idea how that had happened or why but he kissed back, because hot damn Bruce is good at that. The desk was digging in to his back as Bruce pressed ever closer, so Tony just gave up and leant into him, pretending that this wasn't totally inappropriate, ignoring the concern that someone could walk in any second. He had his fingers in Bruce's hair, holding them together, while Bruce grabbed his ass, taking advantage of Tony's moment of surprised hesitation to draw away, leaving Tony leaning into nothing, panting and half hard.

“Shit.” Tony managed, resorting to sitting on the desk so his legs wouldn't fucking give out. Bruce laughed and allowed him to get his breath back, leaning casually on the wall like he was totally unaffected. Tony wasn't convinced, and could totally see a tent in his pants.

“So... What is this, exactly?” Tony asked after a minute or so of comfortable silence. “What are we?”

“Oh, shut up, Tony.” He said dismissively. “You're not going to be a dick about this, are you?”

Tony wondered whether he was, in fact, going to be a dick about it in Bruce's words. “No, I just...”

“Because you're not my boyfriend, and I'm going to continue pretending to fuck people over the phone because I'm poor and the money is better than working in Wal-Mart.” Tony felt a weird twinge of jealousy at that - he tried to forget that this was something Bruce did with other people too.

“You're also very good at it.”

Bruce nodded as if in thought. “Yeah, that too.” He agreed. “Look, we really don't need to label this. We're both just adults having some fun, sleeping with lecturers isn't technicality illegal and most of the time we wouldn't even be in the same room.”

“Most of the time?” Tony asked curiously, because that sounded like...

“If you want to do it again...” Bruce stated in explanation, and Tony had cut over him with a loud “Yes” before he had got half a sentence out. “Good. Because you begging for that dildo in your ass was one of the hottest things I've heard in a long time. Which in my industry means a lot.” Tony flushed, humiliated and aroused in equal parts by Bruce discussing _this_ in college. “All those fantasies you spilled to me, Tony... We can do them all.” That teasing asshole knew exactly what he was doing, but Tony still fell for it like a total idiot. “You got spare clothes?” Bruce said quietly. Tony nodded, knowing that there was a rarely used gym bag stuffed in his office somewhere with at least a clean-ish pair of sweatpants in it. Bruce grinned. “Good boy.”

Tony moaned. “R-Really?”

“You know why you're so fun, sweetie? You're _so_ easy to play.” Tony whined as Bruce stroked his dick through his pants before making quick work of the button and zipper. He didn't bother with slow and teasing, which was probably for the best since they were in an unlocked office during work hours, sticking his hand into Tony's boxer briefs and tasking a firm grip on his dick. “You like this, don't you? Someone could walk in at any moment and you're gagging for it.”

Jesus, this was humiliating but amazing, terrifying but so, so hot. Bruce knew what he was doing, as talented with his hands as he was with his words, and Tony was ready to come within minutes. “Bruce, please.”

Bruce pursed his lips, as if he was debating letting Tony off so easily, but relenting. “Okay. Come, sweetie.”

He did, instantly, splattering the inside of his underwear and Bruce's hand, who dutifully stroked him through his climax. Bruce didn't hesitate before wiping his sticky hand on Tony's pants with a smug grin - there was already a wet patch forming around his crotch. “You're filthy.” Tony gasped, and Bruce laughed.

“I'm not the one with come filled underwear.”

*

Bruce still did transfer out of his class, and moaned about it constantly. Tony had little pity, since he’d told Bruce before that Hammer was a pretentious jerk who knew basically nothing about anything, but in some ways Tony was glad he didn’t have to teach Bruce any more. In the few weeks between finalising their arrangement and the end of the semester, Bruce had developed a new game of trying to get Tony as hot and bothered during lectures as he possibly could, which was as annoying as it was hilarious. He also didn’t have to feel so guilty when Bruce’s grades slipped on a quiz because he’d been up half the night before teasing Tony senseless with a blindfold and a vibrating butt plug.

“This is hilariously bad.” Bruce laughed, waving a wad of paper at Tony from across the coffee table. “Like, seriously, I don’t think I could even give this an F.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I told you, you’re not helping me grade papers. Now stop distracting me.”

“Give them all B minuses then come over here and kiss me.” Bruce grinned, spreading out across the couch lazily. “Actually, don’t give them all B minuses. Someone will question how their grades have jumped two letters.” He spent quite a lot of time in Tony’s apartment these days, totally comfortable with stealing Tony’s favourite spot on the couch and helping himself to beers that he wasn’t technically old enough to drink. Tony knew he should be concerned by it; it was edging out of the territory of whatever vague fuckbuddy relationship they’d outlined, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I’ve got two more papers, okay? One, if you give me a sensible grade on that one you just read. Then we can do something more fun.”

“C.” Bruce said instantly. “C plus if you’re feeling generous.” Tony added a little cross to the top, and Bruce tutted. “You’re so forgiving with their stupidity.”

By the time Tony had finished ten minutes later, Bruce was unashamedly rubbing himself through his pants, eyes making contact with Tony’s every time he looked up at one of Bruce’s favourite obscene moans. “You’re a menace.” Tony said, throwing the final paper down with a solid B scrawled on top. “Bedroom. Now.”

Bruce grinned and followed Tony into the next room. “I want you to fuck me.”

“I can probably do that.” Bruce grinned, until a little packet hit him in the chest and fell to the floor.

“ _I want you to fuck me.”_ Tony emphasised, making his meaning clear as possible. Bruce paused, looking from the condom back to Tony, and then he laughed.

“I can probably do that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I've got another little Science Boyfriends-y something new to share very soon - I just want to get a couple more chapters under my belt first, so I don't keep you all waiting too much. I'll tell you this much though - dystopia, soulmates and conspiracies, oh my!
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr :)](http://isaac-laehey.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> And there we are. Hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr [here](http://isaac-laehey.tumblr.com). I promise I don't bite. Unless you're into that and you give me appropriate signals that you want me to bite you. Even then possibly not.


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